


Goodbye Dean

by Lola_Rose_Robins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel-centric (Supernatural), Dead Dean Winchester, Depressed Castiel (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Suicidal Castiel (Supernatural), Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Sam Winchester, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola_Rose_Robins/pseuds/Lola_Rose_Robins
Summary: An angel wakes up. He is all alone, he doesn't know who he is or where he is, but he is determined to wake up, even if it breaks him down.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 11





	Goodbye Dean

**Author's Note:**

> So if it isn't clear from the tags already. Tw: suicidal thoughts, depression, self-harm, death. Stay safe.

**_“Dean Winchester is saved!”_ **

The angels all stopped in their tracks and couldn’t help but smile. They knew he wasn’t supposed to have gone down to hell to bring back the Righteous Man, but he had always been so glum and hearing the joy in his voice was a welcome sound in these times.

The righteous man had spilled blood in hell, the first seal had been broken. Armageddon would soon begin. Not all angels agreed with the idea to destroy earth, but they could’t go against their superiors, it just wasn’t in their nature.

* * *

The angel wakes up.

How had he even been asleep? That was impossible.

He looks around and then opens his eyes, it makes no difference.

Is he even awake? It sure doesn't look like it... Even with his enhanced vision, there is nothing but darkness surrounding him, nothing but empty.

The angel calls out: “Hello?”

One would expect an echo of sorts, or any indication that sound has travelled through a space. There is no such thing.

His words sound hollow in his ears, he isn’t even sure if the sound has left his mouth, if the words had gone anywhere at all.

He is probably still asleep, this must be one of those so-called ‘dreams’ the humans are always going on about. There is nothing to worry about, his friend will wake him up soon.

Friend? Who is this friend? His own brain had come up with the word, so it must be a real person.

Well, since he’s here, he might as well go for a walk, even though there is nothing to see.

‘Nothing is wrong, this is a dream’. He is unsure if that was an actual voice speaking to him, or just his own thoughts echoing in his mind. It is not of import.

A faint, green light in the distance catches his eye and he moves toward it. It’s a nice shade of green; the shade resembles the colour of an apple, but the shine leans more toward emerald. He immediately decides he loves the colour, this is his favourite colour now.

The small light floats around in the empty space, gently bobbing up and down, like a tiny little star, or a firefly. The angel reaches out his hand and touches it. It feels nice, it’s slightly warm. It reminds him of Dean.

Wait, who is that? Is Dean his friend?

Another green light appears in the distance, he starts moving again.

The second light is a bit further away.

He finally reaches the light. It’s brighter than the last one. It reminds him of Dean’s clothes.

He dresses like a lumberjack…who is this guy?

Another light, even further away. He moves again, he has to remember.

It reminds him of Dean’s voice.

Another.

Dean’s words.

Another. So far away.

Dean’s face. Damn.

The next light is so far away. Would it even be worth it to walk all the way over there? He might not like what he finds next. Maybe he’s better off in the darkness, alone. He could go back to sleep now and never wake up again. He should go back. It’s not worth it.

What is he talking about? Of course it is worth it! Why wouldn’t he want to remember!

He reaches the light.

It reminds him of Dean’s death.

The angel screams, all his memories come rushing back, hitting him one after the other. He knows he is alone, yet somehow he still feels as if people are listening to him, he does not care.

_“It’s not true, it’s not real.”_

All angels, or those who are still alive, stop dead in their tracks. It is a strange sight to the humans, who are only seeing one at a time, but it would be even stranger if they could see all of them at once. The angels frown and grimace. They cannot help but pity their little brother, even after everything he had done. He may have royally fucked up Heaven, but he was still their baby brother, nothing would ever change that. They still cared about him. So to hear him scream out in so much pain, hurt them in more ways than one. 

_**“Dean Winchester is dead!”** _

* * *

Castiel opens his eyes, expecting to see nothing but darkness yet again. Instead he sees foliage.

He wipes away his tears and looks around. He is in a forest. Is this purgatory? Is he back in purgatory? Serves him right.

Soft footsteps sound out behind him, there’s nothing there. Some branches break off to his right. He has to get out of here.

He angrily convinces his legs to get him up and start walking, it takes a while, but eventually Castiel is on the move.

The sounds seem to be following him around.

This is not purgatory. In purgatory, the creature would have attacked him, when he was crying on the floor for half an hour for example. No, if this is purgatory, he would have been dead by now.

This creature is intelligent, it hunts slowly, methodically. This only makes it more dangerous.

He looks back again, nothing. As he turns around he notices that his wings are fully manifested. Oh, that’s right, he has wings.

The wings are severely damaged still, they never fully recovered after hell. But they’ll have to do. Why did he have to go save the righteous man, right he didn’t have to. It was his own stupid idea. Look where that got him.

A branch hits him in the face, so he uproots the entire tree, breaking it into splinters for good measure. Damn, that felt good.

Castiel finally lets go and crashes through rocks and trees, ultimately creating a large clearing. In his rage, he doesn’t realise the slim figure moving closer toward him. Not until it is too late.

The creature is standing just a few feet away from him. It stares at him and he stares at it. Neither of them makes a move, they just stand there, staring into each other’s eyes, or lack thereof, for several minutes.

The creature should have looked terrifying, it should be shocking him to his core. It looks as though someone had decided to drape some dark grey skin directly onto a skeleton. It isn’t saggy or loose, just very insubstantial. It does not have a face, just a mask of pale coloured skin, like a bag pulled over its head, and antlers protruding from the sides.

The creature slowly places a hand on his shoulder, it feels comforting. Even though he knows it shouldn’t.

Another bony hand comes up and slowly lifts his chin up to maintain "eye" contact as the creature moves even closer. He can feel his heartbeat slow down. Strange, he shouldn’t even have a heartbeat. His eyes fall closed and his legs start to give out. He is now only being held up by the hand under his chin.

“Cas!”

A familiar voice echoes in his head. He tears his eyes away from the creature.

“Cas!”

The voice sounds panicked. Is this Dean? Has he come to wake him up after all? No, Dean is dead. Maybe he could go wake Dean up then. He’s done it before.

Castiel steps away from the creature, falling backwards into another pit of darkness.

' _Oh no, not again. I need to wake up Dean, I need to wake up._ '

He opens his eyes and sees a familiar face, the face looks worried.

“Cas! You’re awake.”

The face belongs to a tall man who has now started squeezing his body. Hugging. This is a hug.

“yes, thank you for informing me…Sam.”

Sam, not Dean. He remembers now. He hugs Sam back. He winces when his left arm brushes against Sam. It appears to be broken.

“What happened, where is Dean?” Deep down, he already knows the answer, yet he is still hopeful, or tries to be.

“You don’t remember?”

Castiel just shakes his head. The pitiful look that appears in Sam’s eyes tells him all he needs to know, but he still listens.

“You were attacked. We found you hours later. You were still barely clinging to life, but Dean…”

“Well, where is the body? We can bring him back, it won’t take much, I can…”

“There is no body.”

Castiel fell silent.

“What?”

“There is no body. He was ripped to shreds. I’m sorry, Cas. I know you two were close.”

“No, I’m sorry, Sam. He was your brother.”

Cas’ eyes move across the room and soon find a discoloured patch in the wall to focus on. He can faintly hear Sam continue talking, but he no longer understands his words.

He expected to feel pain, but all he feels now is empty. The spot on the wall slowly drowns out everything else in the room and his own thoughts are now completely blocking out the sound of Sam’s voice.

The pain in his left arm is slowly ebbing away.

He feels something wet running down his cheeks. He doesn’t care, all of his attention is now devoted to the spot on the wall.

He prefers the darkness over this. It was the same feeling, but at least he did not remember. He preferred the darkness over this, anything but this. He has to go back. ' _Please, someone, just let me go back. I need to go back.'_

He no longer feels the pain in his left arm.

Under other circumstances, this would have been normal for him, he is an angel after all, wounds were supposed to heal. This is normal, except for the fact that the wound is still there, not healing. He just doesn’t feel the pain anymore. If he’d been in the right headspace to think about it, he’d realise that he no longer feels anything.

The spot on the wall morphs into the shape of a face, with a pair of antlers sticking out of the sides. It feels like it is staring at him, even though it does not have eyes. He stares right back at it.

' _Take me with you, please._ '

“Cas, stop! What are you doing‽”

Sam’s voice pulls him out of his trance and back into reality. Without realising it, his nails had dug into his skin and blood was now starting to seep out.

He just looks at Sam with a slightly shocked expression as Sam grabs some more bandages and takes care of the wounds.

When he is done, Cas looks down at his bandaged wrists. He can feel the sting now, he can feel something.

Castiel wakes up in the middle of the night. He has taken to sleeping now, he finds it is a good way to pass the time and one does not have to constantly think about things.

His fingers trail over the bandages on his wrist. A darkness comes into his mind and clouds his thoughts. As if possessed he gets up and moves towards the bathroom.

Castiel sits on the floor with one of Dean’s razor blades in his hands. He’s thinking.

After pondering for a while, he decides against cutting. No, it it too messy and too obvious, not as easy to hide. He cannot hurt Sam like that.

An idea pops into his head and he moves towards the kitchen now. He rummages through the cabinets and finds something to use.

With sewing needle and lighter in hand he sneaks back into the bathroom and locks the door behind him.

He clicks on the lighter and stares into the flame, then he starts heating up the needle.

When the needle is sufficiently heated up, he slowly raises it and holds it near his arm.

One deep breath later, and the needle is pushed against his skin.

It burns, it hurts, it feels like something. Castiel repeats the movement twice more, before rolling down his sleeve and going back to bed, making sure to hide the needle and the lighter.

_6 weeks later_

“Alright, Cas. Let’s see that arm of yours.”

Sam reaches out his hand, ready to take off the cast. Castiel lets him.

But when Sam starts rolling up his sleeves, he suddenly pulls back his arm, even surprising himself.

Great, now Sam is suspicious. Look at him, with his kind eyes and raised brow, oh no, don’t add that wretched pitiful smile too. Safe to say, it does not take long for Sam to break down Cas’ walls and soon Sam is back to rolling up the sleeves of the tan trench coat.

Sam gasps as he sees the scars and burn marks covering his best friend’s underarm.

“Oh my god, Cas, what happened? Who did this?”

Cas just looks him dead in the eye in the hope that he is correctly conveying the word ‘Really?’.

Sam’s face falls. Good, message received.

“Cas, why didn’t you say something?”

“It is not of import.”

“Yes it is! Talk to me, Cas.”

“You just lost your brother. You have your own grief to work through, Sam. I do not need to bother you with mine.”

He started to get up, to go back to his room so he could sleep another day away and was sincerely surprised when Sam pulled him back down and held him in a tight embrace.

He could have fought him, easily, but for some reason, he didn’t really want to. Castiel relaxed, soon followed by Sam. Something felt different. For the first time since he’d woken up, Cas felt something other than sadness or anger. The nothingness was not completely gone, but it was finally joined by other feelings.

For the first time since Dean died, Castiel smiled just the tiniest little smile, but it was there.

The two of them fell asleep like that, clinging to each other. Neither of them really cared about the tears staining both of their clothes right now, they knew no-one was judging them.

Castiel had spent most of his time the past few weeks asleep, but this sleep was different. This sleep wasn’t meant to just pass the time and keep his thoughts away, this sleep was good and enjoyable. This sleep marked progress.


End file.
